“I’m not okay!” he roared, yanking his hand away from mine. “Is that what you want me to admit? Is that what you want to hear, Molloy? That I'm not okay?” “Yes,” I cried, feeling both relief and devastation flood my body. “That's what I want you to admit. I want the words, Joey. I want all of your words!” "Pain," he roared into my face, eyes alight with temper, as his shadow danced with his demons. "On the outside. On the inside. All around me. Pain so fucking strong I'm drowning in it!” He ran his bloodstained hands through his hair, tingeing his blond hair a faint crimson color. “That's what
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